


R&R

by indefensibleselfindulgence



Category: Campaign (Podcast), Illimat (Board Game)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Massage, Missing Scene, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23924095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence
Summary: “I want you to, after this, after me, to be able to build your own relationships too. Get more friends, or at least be more open with the ones you have. They can help- and no offense but even just looking at you I can tell you're wound all the way up.”“So you do want them to snap me like a twig.”
Relationships: Gable & Travis Matagot, Margaret & Travis Matagot
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	R&R

**Author's Note:**

> travis is going to make me sad. he already made me sad but like more sad. sad squared.

“You hold a lot of tension in your body, did anyone ever tell you that?” 

Margaret's voice is gentle, like it always is. Travis has tried to tell her that she really doesn't need to keep doing a voice, but apparently that's just what she sounds like. It reminds him him of Dref a bit, when he got really passionate about something and was slightly creepy about it. Not that Travis missed him or anything. 

“You did, just now.” 

“Mmhm.” She says, and pushes a strand of his hair behind his ear. “Your jaw is locked, and your shoulders are rigid.” 

“What do you want me to do about that then?” 

“You could start with relaxing them, at the very least? Unclench your jaw?” Travis, because he's a mature adult, sticks his tongue out. That gets a laugh out of her, at least, and it's nice. If he closes his eyes he thinks he can pretend that it's his Margaret from a million years ago. “It's a start.” 

She pats his hand. 

“My shoulders are just stuck like this.” He says after a moment of silence, a moment of staring down at her hand, at the polish on her fingers. “Can't help any.” 

“Maybe Gable could?” 

“The big dumb idiot would snap me like a twig.” 

“They are very strong, that is true.” They sit in silence, the rush of the river audible even from here, but then of course it is. “What if I ask them very nicely.” 

“Isn't that supposed to be something you do? Not to be presumptuous but that's big intimacy points or whatever.”

“Travis, I'm fixing you-” He interrupts her, because he's tired of hearing it. 

“Because I'm a broken thing I know, I know-” 

“Can I?” She's always so calm and collected- Totally not at all like Dref, actually. He definitely doesn't miss him- he's just talking out of his ass because he's tired. From not sleeping. Yeah. That's it. “I want you to, after this, after me, to be able to build your own relationships too. Get more friends, or at least be more open with the ones you have. They can help- and no offense but even just looking at you I can tell you're wound all the way up.” 

“So you _do_ want them to snap me like a twig.” 

“Well.” She tilts her head in that specific way that his Margaret always used to do when she was about to say something particularly sly. Why does she- why is she- “It would be fun to watch, if nothing else.” 

The smile comes unbidden, he certainly didn't ask for it, but here it is anyway. 

“If nothing else.” 

…

“I have no idea why you let her talk you into this.” Travis says, and removes his new, unfortunately nice, coat. 

“She can be very pervasive.” Gable says behind him, cracking their knuckles. Not a pleasant sound at all. “You know that by now. She talked you into this too.” 

“I sure can be.” They both jump- like they forgot Margaret was in the room- watching Gable almost smash their head into the ceiling almost made this entire thing worth it- “I'll head out don't worry, just wanted to make sure he's being cared for.” 

“Oh, I'll take care of him alright.” 

“If you don't find my corpse in three days, alert the authorities.” He calls after the door shuts and he can hear her laugh down the hall.

“She's intense.” Gable says, and they're not wrong. Not at all. 

“Hm.” But he'd rather die than admit that. “Did she tell you what you're doing?” 

“She told me to not snap you in half. Like a twig. Which I could. Because I'm very-” 

“Big, yes, I'm aware. I've noticed.” He sits on the bed, back to them. “Fuck me up, I guess.” Gable's fingers are fine, uncalloused despite years of labor, but then so are his. Maybe he could work some up in the few days he has the ability too. On one singular hand. Travis sighs and Gable stills- “Don't slack now. What am I paying you for.” 

“You're not.” 

“That does explain the awful service.” 

Gable huffs, in what is probably irritation, and begins in earnest, fingers digging into his back. It hurts, but he's not going to give them the satisfaction of knowing that. When was the last time he got a massage- maybe a century and a half ago- when he was still in the blissful early years. 

“Get your shirt off.” 

“Buy me dinner first-” 

“Travis.” Oh, they do sound very annoyed. He grins to himself and tugs it off. Gable's fingers are big, just like the rest of them, and they press into the muscles in his back, on his shoulders, every few minutes smoothing the skin down by running their entire palm along the flat of his back. “Lie down.” 

He doesn't protest this time, maybe, Maybe, because he's kind of getting into the way they push and pull him around. 

His back is warm. 

“She wasn't kidding.” Gable's voice is soft too- maybe this entire thing was just a way to trick him into sleeping because it is unfortunately working. “Knots on knots Travis. You've had this body for like three days, how have you-” 

“I live a very high risk life style.” 

“Do you.” 

“I'm a skyjack actually, maybe you've heard of me.” There's a scoff or a laugh, who can say.

“Can't say I have.” 

And then it's quiet again. The only sound in the room is Travis' breathing because he's not sure Gable has to do that. So that's how it is, he guesses. He suspects, somewhat, that this was just a situation Margaret crafted for him to ask about the whole curse thing, but it's- 

Too soon. 

Or not soon enough. 

He's scared, maybe, or maybe he doesn't want to ask anything important while Gable's bare hands are on touching him because jokes aside, they probably, definitely, for sure, could snap him like he's porcelain or glass or any other tiny brittle thing. 

“Gable?” They hum an acknowledgment as their thumbs dig down along his spine. “Do you remember the prison?” 

“Which one?” 

“Ha ha.” He grits his teeth when they really dig into a knot- and his muscles feel warm under their hands. “The cold one.” They hum their agreement in the way that they do when they're annoyed with him- or annoyed with themselves. Who can say. “Why didn't you just tell me.” 

“Because you were insufferable.” 

“Still.” He wants to twist around and catch their face. He doesn't. “I was the only person not trying to dissect you.” 

“I don't think you know what insufferable means.” 

“Actually, I don't think you do. Because here you are. Suffering me. Still.” 

There's a sigh. 

“Yeah. Guess I am.” And a pause. “You were a snake for most of it, right?” Travis nods, chin digging into the mattress. “Weren't you cold?” 

“Oh, sure.” He didn't remember the cold, just the monotony. He remembers the icicle they threw at him, the way it bit into his hands. 

“Why did you come to my cell when you could have coiled up by a fire somewhere?” 

Yeah, Travis. Why didn't you. 

“I was curious.” 

“It wasn't that interesting of an answer.” 

“I mean, I've met weirder. But it's up there.” Their hands still, and then stop entirely and he rolls over, stretching his arms. He feels looser, that's for sure. And there's still the heat of their hands on him, lingering. “Would you have let me coil around you?” 

“Then? No. Absolutely not.” 

“And now?” 

It's getting later, sunlight a little more orange as it drifts in through the window. 

“Depends on the day, I guess.” 

"Are you going to apologize for my arm?"

"No, absolutely not."

"Well I'll give it another eighty years then, see how you feel then, since that's evidently the buffer zone."

They reach over him to grab a pillow and try to lightly, dare he even say, _affectionately_ , smother him with it.

At least some things never change.

**Author's Note:**

> comments always very very appreciated
> 
> find me on[ tumblr ](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/) and [ twitter](https://twitter.com/miurmiurmiur)


End file.
